It’s 2019, Friday, August 3. Foreday Morning, the nightly mini-carnival anticipating next Monday’s Kadooment**, is taking place this evening. And while I go around acting like I understand Crop Over* festivities, I’m still not sure how to be a part of them. My close Bajan*** friends are no longer keen on those rituals, so I’m on my own.
It all starts during the bus ride earlier in the morning. Overhearing a conversation about Foreday Morning between a local couple and a young European girl, I invite myself in. Her name is Spela and they’ve just met. A few bus stops later, I’ve got my marching orders. I’m to wear my cheapest clothes and shoes, carry my phone and cash in a plastic pouch, and show up at 1 a.m. Fine, I’ll wear stuff that’s fit for the trash, but I’m definitely not getting dirty. At least that’s the plan.
It’s time. Spela and I have no idea what to expect but we obediently follow our new friends, with Gail as our mentor. Suddenly, here come the first groups, preceded by blaring music. Their ripped shirts, homemade outfits and paintsmeared bodies are a far cry from the glitzy Kadooment attire. And I’m sure those paint buckets, mud bins and oversize brushes can only be meant for me and other spectators, so I’m on my guard.
At first we marvel at the display of unbridled fun rising from the colorful crowd, when one of the revellers, grinning mischievously, suddenly breaks ranks and makes a beeline for us, armed with a brush. That’s it, the dreaded assault is about to happen: it’s a given Spela and I – the conspicuous tourists - are his designated targets. But wait: he walks up to Gail! She smiles quietly as he smears her leg with blue paint. I’m staring in disbelief! Minutes later, it’s Spela’s turn! She surrenders willingly to a woman dressed as a tree and allows her to cover her neck and shoulders with the national colors of Barbados. Spela looks positively delighted! I can hear a small voice nagging inside me: “Can’t you let your hair down a little? Can’t you just join in?” Fine, I’ll give it a try. “Hi, Ma’am, can I get a green stripe on my arm?” After that first step, I feel emboldened and more inclined to let go. And after a while, the celebration takes on a whole new dimension, as I morph from spectator to actor and forget about appearances and social boundaries.
Gail, Spela and I are now competing for attention. “Gimme a touch of blue, please! Oh, great, I want that red!” “Try the mud”, Spela tells me, “it feels nice and cool!” And so on. More paint, more laughter, more fun. Letting go is the name of this game, and the rules are now clear to me: no assaults, no inappropriate or aggressive gestures. The same goes for the wukkup*** dancing: it’s all about consent and mutual respect. No need to worry about unwanted hip shakes or paint splatters.
Where are paparazzi when you need them??? By daybreak, we have all turned into works of contemporary art. Everywhere you look, people are laughing and looking cheerful. The parade is starting to wind down but we’re still in a partying mood. Gail finds an open café where no one seems surprised to see brightly colored aliens walk in. Then it’s… beach time! We rub ourselves with sand to strip most of the paint, then dive into the blue Caribbean Sea as the sun rises and let the waves do their cleaning.
When I get home at 8 a.m., I’m still on a blissful high from letting go completely and being befriended by a total stranger. Needless to say, she is now a close friend. Like so many Bajans**** before her, Gail has shown me yet again that in Barbados, ‘stranger’ needn’t rhyme with ‘danger’.
Did my ‘Feelgood Newsletter’ do the trick for me this time? Absolutely. Life can be wonderful..
*Kadooment: A Carnival held in Barbados at the end of Crop Over (see previous issue, Crop Over)
**Crop Over: 2-month celebrations marking the end of the sugar cane season
*** Wukkup : Sensual Caribbean type of dance
**** Bajans : a name Barbadian people call themselves.
Translated by Edna Setton
September 24, 2020